Little Girl Found
by LarielRomeniel
Summary: Follow up to "Little Boy Lost," which is necessary reading. Just as Len & Sara are about to explore their relationship, she gets tragic news from Star City 2016. Canon divergent after LoT 1x11 "Salvation" and Arrow 4x18 "Eleven-Fifty-Nine." A shamelessly CaptainCanary "fixit."
1. Chapter 1

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This was supposed to only be the "third time" mentioned in "Little Boy Lost." But the Muse demanded much more than that.

And can I brag about guessing the identity of the baby in black before the airing of LoT 1x12? That bit of prescience is all I can lay claim to; Legends of Tomorrow and Arrow are both the property of DC Entertainment.

* * *

 **Prologue Part 1 – Returning Baby Leo**

 _Sara kissed the infant's forehead before laying him back into his bassinet._

 _"Gee, our first kiss, and I'm not even able to appreciate it," Snart quipped._

**Prologue Part 2 – That Evening**

 _He kissed her forehead, just as she had done before with his infant self. "There. Our second kiss. Hope you were able to appreciate it."_

 _She grinned and made a waggling so-so motion with her hand. He smirked and put an arm around her shoulders so she could snuggle against his side once again. "I'd ask you if you want to see whether the third time really is the charm," he said, "but…"_

 _"I'm not going to take advantage of you when you're all emotionally vulnerable," she said with a smile. "Captain Cold is getting all slushy."_

 **Chapter 1 – Later That Same Night**

Sara found him poking around in the galley in the middle of the Waverider's "night" (all things being relative on a ship traveling through time and space). "Couldn't sleep?"

"Mom's lullaby always works like a charm, unless you're the one singing it," Len replied while inspecting a cabinet. Not finding what he wanted, he closed it and moved on to the next one. "I thought a little hot cocoa would help me drop off. But I can't find the mini marshmallows."

"I think Jax finished them off."

He closed the cabinet with an exasperated sigh. "Can't have hot cocoa without the mini marshmallows."

She gave him a little push over to the table and re-opened the cabinet, pulling out a box of peppermint tea and several bottles of spices. "Give me a minute. I can do something better than hot cocoa that won't rot your teeth."

"I don't do tea."

That was true; when Rip's mother served them tea at the Refuge, he'd set it down without a sip and left it to grow cold. _Something for a sweet tooth, then._ She grabbed another bottle from the cabinet. "Trust me," she said as she started some water boiling. Then she began mixing the ingredients for two cups of chai.

"Taking care of me again, Sara?" he asked, settling into one of the chairs. "That sort of thing is getting to be a habit with you. Won't that damage your reputation as an assassin?"

She smiled and stirred the mix into the water. "I trust you not to blow my cover."

"As long as you promise to give Jax a threatening glare the next time he touches the mini marshmallows," he said. "I think he's more scared of you than of me."

That got a chuckle from her. "Deal," she said, pulling some almond milk out of the refrigerator. "So, the last thing I remember is sitting with you in the lower hold. Did you actually carry me back to my room?"

"Tucked you in, too. You were pretty out of it."

"Nice of you. Won't that damage your reputation as an ice man?"

He just snorted at that. She poured the tea into a pair of mugs, and added a bit of the almond milk. "Why didn't you stay?" she asked quietly.

"Wasn't invited," he shrugged.

She had to laugh at that. "You used to make your living through breaking and entering. Since when have you ever worried about being invited anywhere?"

"Generally I avoid breaking and entering wherever someone could kill me _very slowly_ ," he answered, accepting the mug from her. He gave it a tentative sniff, then took a sip. His eyes widened in pleased surprise.

"Told you to trust me," she said, taking the chair next to him. "Aside from insomnia, how are you feeling?"

She knew how roiled his normally cool composure had become after learning he'd been abandoned as an infant and then kidnapped by the woman he thought of as his mother. Not that he'd let anyone else on the ship see his reaction but her. Not even Mick knew just how rattled he'd been.

He took another sip of the chai before answering. "I'm not sure where to start, Sara," he said. "I could say I'm relieved that I don't share anything with Lewis Snart except a first initial and an atrocious last name. Or I could say I'm perplexed about how to explain this to Lisa, or whether I even should explain it to her." He put his mug down and leaned toward her, taking her mug to set it on the table as well. "But I _can_ tell you that right now, I'm not feeling 'all emotionally vulnerable.' Or one bit 'slushy.'"

She shared a smile with him at that. Then his voice dropped lower as he went on, "And I'm still curious about whether the third time is the charm."

She leaned toward him as he laid a hand on the side of her face. "I am, too," she whispered.

Before their lips could meet, Gideon spoke up. "Miss Lance, Captain Hunter is asking to see you on the bridge right away."

Len growled and leaned his forehead against hers. "Thank you, Gideon. We'll be there in a moment." He rubbed his thumb gently on her cheek. "Let's see what the mighty ex-Time Master has to say. Then maybe we can pick up where we left off."

His inflection put it as a question. For an answer, she brought his hand to her lips and brushed them gently across his knuckles. "That doesn't count," she told him. "But consider yourself invited."

He smiled and bowed slightly, motioning for her to precede him out of the galley on the way to the bridge.

* * *

Len didn't know what to do. Sara's face had crumpled when Rip and Gideon told her about her sister's death. She let out a piercing cry and fell to her knees on the deck. Len was kneeling next to her, his hand on her back, but besides providing some kind of physical anchor as she sobbed her heart out, he had no idea how he could help her. He had seen death plenty of times, but he was a stranger to this kind of grief.

The cry woke the other members of the team, bringing them to the bridge in a variety of sleepwear. They stared in shock, both at the weeping Sara, and at the projection of the news headline from Star City, declaring the death of Laurel Lance in a prison riot. Kendra began to cry herself, leaning against Ray, who also had tears in his eyes. Len remembered that both of them had known Laurel Lance as more than just a name; that they had fought beside the Black Canary.

"Captain, is there any chance we change this?" Stein asked in a hushed tone. "Go back and prevent it?"

Rip shook his head. In a rough voice, he said, "Laurel Lance's death is a fixed point in time. It cannot be changed."

"Fixed point? What the hell are you talking about?" Jax demanded angrily. "You've had us traveling around time and space to stop Savage so your family doesn't die. _Why can't you save hers?_ "

"Because of what it could do to the future," came the answer, not from Rip, but from Mick. Or was he Chronos now, as he drew on his lessons from the Time Masters? "Fixed points are like anchors in the timeline. They don't just _want_ to happen, they _have_ to happen, or worse things will follow. The Time Masters learned it the hard way."

"What does that mean?" Stein again, looking between Mick and Rip.

Rip rubbed his hand over his face. "An example would be the terrorist attacks on September 11th, 2001. They were a result of meddling with a fixed point in time. Osama bin Laden was supposed to have been killed whilst fighting with the mujahedeen in Afghanistan in 1982, but a Time Master who was supposed to be observing the battle somehow got between bin Laden and the bullet."

"So bin Laden survived to create al Qaeda, and thousands died," Mick finished.

"What happened to my family is not a fixed point," Rip said. He knelt down in front of Sara, who lifted her tear-stained face to look at him. "Sara," he said softly, "I am so sorry. We can't go back to save her. But I can take you back to say goodbye."

She wiped under her eyes with the back of one hand, and reached to grip Len's hand tightly with the other. "I understand, Rip," she whispered. "Please, just take me home."


	2. Chapter 2

AUTHOR'S NOTE: "Legends of Tomorrow," "Arrow" and their characters are the property of DC Entertainment. I'm just borrowing here.

* * *

Len was waiting outside her door when Sara emerged from her room, dressed in black for her sister's funeral. He wore a black suit himself, and offered her his arm to walk out with her. A short way down the corridor, Ray and Kendra joined them, also dressed in mourning. Sara gave them a grateful half-smile.

What she didn't expect was to see the rest of the team, also in black, waiting for her at the main hatch. Even Mick. "But none of you even knew Laurel," she said.

"Neither did Mr. Snart," Stein observed. "But funerals are for the living, Miss Lance. We're coming for _you_."

* * *

Len sat in a corner of the Lance yard, watching Sara talk to a petite young woman with dark hair, one of the many people who had gathered at the house after the graveside service. Sara's father had already given him the evil eye, and he was certain Quentin Lance had already run a background check on him. He'd have at least found the murder rap, even though Barry had erased everything else.

But Lance hadn't thrown him out, and no cops had arrived yet to haul him back to Iron Heights. Perhaps Lance didn't mind the murder of an abusive ex-cop-turned-criminal so much.

Or maybe he knew enough about his daughter's past as an assassin that he'd decided he lived in a glass house and wasn't going to throw stones.

In any event, no one was bothering Len, leaving him free to observe the people around him as he sipped on a cup of coffee. Death was familiar, but funerals were not. His mom had been cremated with little ceremony, and there had only been slightly more for Carter and Aldus.

The other members of the team were scattered around the yard, making conversation with the mourners. Except for Mick. The big man had taken a seat where he could watch the gate and watch out for the team. Funerals were unfamiliar territory for him, too. No one approached him; the four long gashes healing on his face seemed to make a more-than-adequate "Do Not Disturb" sign.

Sara eventually hugged the dark haired woman and made her way over to Len. He shifted over on the bench to give her room to sit next to him.

"That was Thea Queen," she said.

Len gave her a sidelong look. "Any relation to your green vigilante ex, Oliver Queen?" He mentally winced as he realized that he actually sounded jealous.

Sara didn't call him on it. "She's his sister, and she was Laurel's roommate. Thea and I have a… _complicated_ friendship," she said and paused. Obviously there was much more she wasn't ready to tell yet. "But one thing we shared was bloodlust. She went into the Pit once, too."

He shifted to face her more fully. "You said 'shared.' Past tense. Thea doesn't have it any more?"

Sara looked back at Thea, who was heading toward the gate. "She says she was cured with something called a Lotus Elixir. She'll never have to worry about losing control again."

Now Sara was the one who sounded jealous. "Is there any more of this elixir?" Len asked her.

Sara shook her head again. "Thea said no. Just my luck."

He glanced around the yard. "So, where are the rest of your vigilante friends? Where's the Green Arrow hiding?"

She raised an eyebrow at him. "You say that like you have a bone to pick."

"Let's just say I think they're being rude by not showing up for you. And after meeting the younger version of you, I'd be pleased to kick his ass for hurting her."

She smirked at him. "If not for what Ollie did, you and I would never have met."

He nodded slightly. "True. Then let's say I'd be pleased to kick a hero's ass on general principles." He paused, and then went on in a softer tone, "And for being rude to you when you need the people you love around you."

Now both eyebrows went up. "First, jealousy, and now chivalry. What in the world is happening to Captain Cold?"

One corner of his mouth twitched up slightly. "Global warming," he told her in his best Cold drawl.

That got an honest laugh from her, lighting up her face in a way he rarely saw.

"It's good to hear you laughing, baby girl." Quentin Lance was standing over them, gazing softly at his daughter. "We never heard you laugh enough even before all this."

Len stood, planning to join Mick, to give Sara and her father some privacy. Lance put up a hand to stop him. "You don't need to go," he said.

 _Here's where the hammer drops,_ Len thought.

The older man drew in a breath, looking back and forth at them, before proceeding. _._ "A convicted murderer might not be my first choice for a..." he hesitated, as if looking for the right word—" _friend_ for my daughter. Or even my second or third choice, to tell you the truth. But I've been talking to your Captain Hunter, and he says there's a lot more to you than what's in your record, Mr. Snart. So I'm willing to give you the benefit of the doubt." He reached out to shake Len's hand.

Len needed a nudge from Sara to accept the handshake. It was surreal, being accepted by a police officer, and he still wasn't sure whether Lance was going to slap cuffs on him.

But no cuffs appeared, and Lance turned to Sara, pulling her up for a hug. "I wish I could keep you here forever, baby," he said, "but Hunter says you all need to go, before Oliver and his team take on Damien Darkh."

"Meaning we're not part of the takedown crew," Len concluded.

Lance shook his head. "He said something about fixed points in time and altering history for the worse. I didn't understand it, but your scarred friend over there agreed with him."

"Mick and Rip in agreement," Sara marveled to Len. "Do you think the universe will implode?" She kissed her father. "I'll go say goodbye to Mom."

The two men watched her go. Then Lance said quietly, "I was going to warn you that I'd come after you if you did anything to hurt her."

Len nodded, still watching Sara. "Wasn't expecting anything less."

"But I'm not going to," Lance continued, prompting Len to look at him curiously. "If you hurt her," he went on, "she'll come after you herself."

Len looked back at Sara. "Don't I just know it."

* * *

Their teammates engaged in quiet conversations as Rip and Mick led the way back to the Waverider. They were talking too, in low tones about something or other to do with the timeline.

Sara sidled closer to Len and said quietly, "Maybe the universe _has_ imploded, and we just haven't figured it out yet."

He snickered. "Of all the things I'd imagined for this trip, Mick understanding temporal physics has to be in the bottom three of the list," he said.

"So what are the other two?" she asked curiously.

He gazed off toward the setting sun, thinking. "Learning I was abandoned in a church and then stolen by my mother as a newborn would be one of them." He laced his arm through hers. "But I think the most unexpected thing has been you." He gave her arm a little squeeze, and then went on, "Although I'm also surprised your dad didn't slap the cuffs on me."

She smiled a little at that. "So, did he warn you to treat his baby girl right or he'd come after you?"

"Not exactly," he replied with a slight smile. "Actually, he warned me that if I hurt you, you'd be the one I'd have to worry about."

She laughed at that. "He used to dream of just locking me up till I'm thirty."

"You'd still be locked up now if that dream came true."

She shook her head. "Two extra years in the League of Assassins, remember? I'm 31 now."

"Does he know that?" he asked.

She shook her head. "Sometimes I think he still thinks I'm ten."

Their path took them past a park, deserted now in the gathering darkness, its trees looking like shadowy giants against the purpling sky. Sara stopped and looked wistfully at the playground, equipped with swings, slides, a merry-go-round and a tall jungle gym in the shape of a rocket. "Laurel and I used to play here," she said. She turned to cross the grass to the playground.

Rip paused as he noticed the detour. "Miss Lance…"

Len held up a hand to interrupt him. "Give her a minute, Rip."

Rip sighed in acquiescence. "I suppose we have a little time," he said. He waved at the rest of the team. "Go ahead."

Jax walked over to the merry-go-round and gave it a push. "I remember pushing one of these things so fast that I made another kid puke," he said.

"What a charming childhood memory, Jefferson," Stein said dryly. "I think I'll pass on a reenactment of that experience."

Kendra and Ray headed to the swings. Mick settled at the bottom of the slide, while Sara went straight for the rocket, Len following.

She grasped the rungs of the ladder and began to climb. "Are you sure your dad isn't right about your age, Sara?" he called after her.

She kept climbing. "When I was six, I climbed to the top of this rocket and jumped off it. I was trying to fly."

"I can bet I know how that went," Kendra said. Ray had pushed her hard enough that she swung high and flew off, her wings unfurling and bringing her to a landing.

Sara reached the top. "I broke my ankle. Ollie and Laurel had to carry me home. But just for those few seconds after I jumped, I felt like I really was flying." She turned to face outward from the rocket, poised like a graceful statue.

"Careful, Blondie," Mick warned. "You're not the one with wings here."

Of all the crazy things, she stuck her tongue out at him. _Yep, ten years old._ Then, like a gymnast ( _or a Canary_ ), she spread out her arms and leapt.

Sara might not have had wings, but in 25 years, she'd learned to fall with style. She flipped in midair, and then rolled as she landed, coming smoothly back to her feet. Len let out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

Jax and Stein applauded, and Mick gave an appreciative whistle. Rip merely shook his head, looking relieved that she hadn't broken her neck.

"Miss Lance, I hate to cut short this visit down memory lane," he said. "But we need to be out of Star City before the confrontation with Darkh."

"You've still got a few hours before that," came a voice from the copse of trees near the playground. A tall, dark haired man dressed in black emerged from the shadows. As he drew nearer, Len could see the man's left arm was held closely to his body in a sling.

The arm ended in a stump.

"Malcolm Merlyn," Sara growled, moving into an attack position.

Merlyn held up his good hand. "I come in peace, Sara," he said. He paused for a moment, surveying the team. Len knew that kind of look; he was sizing them up, evaluating the risks.

Then Merlyn's gaze returned to Sara. In a voice barely above a whisper, he asked, "How would you like to save your sister?"

* * *

ADDITIONAL AUTHOR'S NOTE: To learn about the gashes on Mick's face, see my story "Penance."


	3. Chapter 3

AUTHOR'S NOTE: So. Malcolm Merlyn.

Don't own. Sadly.

* * *

Merlyn's question stunned the group. Most of them were staring at him in astonishment.

Not Sara, though. Her stare was filled with hate, and her body was taut like a bowstring. She was holding herself back. Holding the bloodlust back.

Finally, Rip spoke. "It's not possible."

Merlyn smirked at him. "Says the man who pilots a time ship."

"How could you possibly know that?' Rip finally asked in a low tone.

Merlyn's smile became cold. "I _was_ Ra's al Ghul, even if it wasn't for long." He looked around at the Waverider's crew. "I know what the demon knew, including everything about your visit to Nanda Parbat in 1960."

He strolled into the middle of the playground and looked around at them. "I can tell you how to save Laurel," he said. "But I want something in return for the information."

"Of course you do," Len responded sharply, not liking the way Sara was trembling with the effort not to attack this man. "What is it?"

"The same thing you got," Merlyn returned, just as sharply. "My hand back."

He met Len's eyes, ice blue clashing with ice blue. "You were missing a hand when the demon saw you last, and you have it now, so I presume your ship has some future tech that can restore what was taken from me." He indicated his missing hand.

Rip repeated, "It's not possible. Laurel Lance's death is a fixed point. We cannot prevent it."

"I'm not talking about preventing it," Merlyn said mildly. "I'm talking about _undoing_ it."

If anything, that suggestion wound Sara even tighter. Her fists clenched as she stared at the man. Obviously there was some history here. "You're talking about the Lazarus Pit," she said in an icy tone. "But you know it's been destroyed."

"It's destroyed _now_ ," Merlyn said. "But as I pointed out before, you have a time ship."

"You're suggesting we take Miss Lance's body back in time to Nanda Parbat and resurrect her?" Rip asked incredulously.

Stein had that "wheels turning" look on his face as he asked, "If Miss Lance's death is the fixed point and has already happened, would it make any difference if she is restored in another time?" he asked.

The Waverider's AI had apparently been whispering in Hunter's ear through the comms. "Gideon says not," Hunter said, "as long as we don't return her here, to this place and time."

"Malcolm, you _know_ what the Lazarus Pit did to me, and to your own daughter!" Sara growled angrily. Len reached out and laid a hand on her shoulder, feeling the tension thrumming through her. "I will _not_ put Laurel through that!"

"If you went back to 1960, or even to last year, you certainly would have a problem," Malcolm agreed. "After all, the Pit is filled with the memories of everyone who ever bathed in it. That's what creates the bloodlust. But those memories are not what gives it the power to heal, or to restore life." He turned back to Rip. "You have to go back to a time before there were any memories in it."

"No memories means nothing to create the bloodlust!" Ray exclaimed.

Sara's thrumming had stopped. Len could feel her become very, very still as she processed Ray's statement. But she still held her attack stance, not trusting.

Len didn't trust Merlyn either. "Drop the other shoe," he said. "There's something you haven't told us yet."

Merlyn just nodded smugly. _Prick._ "Your captain knows."

"Nanda Parbat is a fragmentation," Rip said. "We can't see all the way back in its history to know when to go."

"But Mick found us there!" Kendra protested.

"Only because I'd planted a tracker on the Waverider after capturing Snart," Mick answered.

Merlyn looked around at them in cold amusement. "I know you all have a fascinating backstory to tell here," he said. "But time is of the essence. The longer Laurel stays dead, the harder it will become to reunite her body and soul." He fixed Sara with a cold stare. "It took magic to put you back together, Sara, but the magician who did it isn't on this plane of existence right now." He looked back at Rip. "I can guide you to the correct point in time."

"Rip, this feels messed up," Jax said. "You sure you can't just Google it or something?"

Merlyn laughed derisively. "There are no definitive written records of the date the Lazarus Pit was first discovered. All anyone has recorded is a best-guess, and those guesses have been very far off."

"But you know it because this demon of yours knew it," Len surmised.

Merlyn nodded. "Exactly."

"Then I have just one more question," Len said, giving Sara's shoulder a slight squeeze. "You say the Pit can heal too." He looked at Sara, watching her face as he asked Merlyn, "Can it cure bloodlust?"

She stared at him with shocked blue eyes, and he could feel the tension drain away from her body as she considered this idea. Then she looked at Merlyn, who looked thoughtful.

"It is possible," the man said at last, "that we could bring Laurel back first, and then let Sara try. Laurel never had the stain of deliberate, premeditated murder on her soul, so the waters wouldn't be as… tainted as they were when Sara went in the first time."

Len put both hands on her shoulders. He said softly, "It's a chance, Sara. It might not work, but…"

"But I wouldn't be any worse off than I am now," she said in a whisper. She looked back at Merlyn and asked, "Are you sure about Laurel's soul?"

"The longer the separation, the less likely the re-fusion," Merlyn answered. "Laurel's only been gone a few days. You were dead for a year."

Len drew in a sharp breath at that; he'd never known just how long Sara had been… _gone_ , before being brought back.

Merlyn continued, "And when Laurel put you in the Pit, you were soaked in centuries of murder and death. Where we're going, _when_ we're going, those won't exist. There won't be anything to get in the way." His voice dropped to a whisper. "You could get Laurel back. And maybe get yourself back too."

"All that, just to get your hand back, Merlyn?" Ray asked doubtfully. "I know you're not supposed to look a gift horse in the mouth, but, well, it's _you_."

"Consider it a balancing of the scales," Merlyn said. "Penance for my past actions."

Sara looked around at her teammates. "I don't know if I should trust him," she said.

"We shouldn't," Len told her. "But this wouldn't be the first time I worked with someone I didn't trust to get something I wanted." He looked over at Merlyn. "If there's any funny business, I'll ice you myself. And I mean that quite literally."

Merlyn just quirked an eyebrow and smirked at him. _Smug prick._

"Sara, I brought you all on a quest to save my family. I can't do any less for you," Rip said. He looked at Merlyn. "We'd need a sample of genetic material from before your maiming."

Merlyn reached into a pocket of his jacket and drew out a vial of blood. "I expected that."

"If this works, we can't return Laurel to her own place and time," Mick reminded them.

"There's still an empty seat aboard the Waverider," Kendra pointed out. "Carter's seat." She looked at Sara. "He knew Laurel, if only for a little bit, and I think he'd like it if your sister took his place."

Len could feel Sara trembling again. She lowered her gaze, and said quietly, "That man had me murdered to send the League of Assassins to war, just so he could gain power. I don't trust him." She looked back up at him, her eyes full of tears. "But I can't live with the idea of not trying."

"Then we try," he told her gently. "And I meant what I said. If he crosses us, you're not the only one who knows how to kill slowly." He fixed Merlyn with a glare. "I've got a setting on the Cold Gun that works like a glacier. Slow and painful. Freezing's not a nice way to go, so you'd better… _behave_ yourself."

"Oh, I will," Merlyn said, "once you've all helped me with one little crime." He paused and smiled grimly. "We need to rob Laurel's grave."


	4. Chapter 4

AUTHOR'S NOTE: The team arrives in Nanda Parbat. Tissue warning.

Still don't own it. Darn it.

* * *

Sara didn't bother to hide her enjoyment of Malcolm's reaction to time travel. It may have been petty revenge, and nowhere near enough to pay him back for all the pain he'd caused her, but seeing him fall from his seat to the floor to puke his guts out made her feel a little better.

No one on the ship was exactly comfortable about having him aboard after they retrieved Laurel's casket from the cemetery. But Len had advised, "They say you should keep your friends close and your enemies closer," and Mick had concurred, telling Malcolm, "Since we don't know which you are, I'm gonna be right up your…"

"Nanda Parbat, in the year 3691 B.C.," Rip announced, interrupting Sara's train of thought. "Still centuries before the formation of the League of Assassins, and according to Mr. Merlyn, a time before any itinerant wanderers can discover the Lazarus Pit."

The view from the front windows was very different from her memories of Nanda Parbat. There was no fortress, no gate. Just huge sentinels of stone. "I don't recognize anything here," she said. "How are we going to find the Pit?"

Merlyn pushed himself off the deck with his good arm. "I told you I'd lead you to it," he said. "But you'll need to restore my hand first. We'll need to do some climbing to get to the site." When Rip looked hesitant, Malcolm said, "The clock is ticking on Laurel's soul."

Rip rose from his captain's chair. "Very well, then. Mr. Merlyn, please accompany me to the Medbay. Mr. Rory, Mr. Snart, would you please join us?"

Merlyn snorted. "Keeping some bodyguards with you?"

"Told you," Mick rumbled, "right up your…"

Rip interrupted him. "The rest of you, get ready for a climb."

* * *

Len was surprised to see Sara dressed in her full battle gear, ready for trouble, when he and the others reached the main hatch. She had been leaning against Laurel's casket, her head pillowed on her forearms. When she straightened, he could see traces of tears on her face. Her mouth twitched a little when she saw Merlyn's restored hand.

"You look like you're ready for a fight," Merlyn observed, looking her up and down in a way that made Len clench his fists. "So how many knives _do_ you have in that outfit?"

 _Rotten smug prick._

But trust Sara to take the prick down a peg. "The only way you're going to find that out is if I use them all on you," she replied coldly.

The other members of the team had arrived in the anteroom. Rip hit the hatch release. They looked at the rocky slope looming above them.

"We're not going to be able to carry her casket up this," Ray observed.

"Don't need the casket," Mick said. He moved to open it, then stopped and looked at Sara. "All right?" he asked her in a surprisingly soft tone.

She nodded wordlessly, just drawing a shuddering breath. Mick raised the lid, and Len got his first look at Laurel Lance.

She didn't look like Sara, and he probably wouldn't have marked them for sisters. Where Sara was golden haired with freckles and pouting lips, Laurel's face was narrow and more refined, with darker hair and clear alabaster skin.

He'd often heard that the dead looked like they were sleeping. This was the first time he'd ever seen it, despite the many times he'd seen death.

"I'll be careful with her," Mick promised as he lifted Laurel out of the casket. Another first: In all their years as partners, Len had never seen Mick be that gentle. Carefully, he turned toward the ramp and began to walk down it. The others followed. Merlyn slung a backpack over his shoulders and quickly moved into the lead position.

The climb wasn't difficult at first, but it was steep. It wasn't long before Stein and Jax decided it would be better for them to merge into Firestorm, and let Jax's body do the work. As the terrain became rougher, forcing them to scramble over rock formations, Jax helped to carry Laurel, the younger man matching Mick's unexpected tenderness toward the dead woman.

After an hour of climbing, they reached a cavern. "This is it," Malcolm said.

Jax stayed just overhead, his flame lighting the cavern. A few minutes of walking brought them to a dark pool, sunken into the rock. Malcolm unslung his pack and opened it, drawing out candles. He looked up at Jax. "Might I trouble you for a light?"

Jax landed and touched his finger to the candlewicks, setting them ablaze. Malcolm passed the candles to Rip and Kendra. "Put these around the Pit."

Then he pulled a roll of black canvas and some rope from the pack. The canvas turned out to be a portable stretcher with four handles. The rope was divided in four lengths, and Malcolm began tying the ropes to the handles.

"Let me help," Ray said, and took the other side. It was some good being a Boy Scout after all.

It only took them a few minutes to prepare the stretcher. Mick laid Laurel onto it, in a motion that was almost tender. Sara knelt down and kissed her sister's forehead.

Merlyn looked around at the others. "Now we lower her in. Be careful, and don't touch the water yourself. It's pure now, but if it's touched at all by a soul stained with murder or hatred, it will become tainted and Laurel's soul will be in danger."

Mick and Rip took the ropes on one side of the stretcher. Ray and Len took the ropes on the other side. Sara touched her sister's face one more time, then stood and stepped back next to Kendra.

"Lift her on my mark," Merlyn said. "Three, two, one, _mark_."

They lifted her carefully, and moved to position the stretcher over the Pit. Merlyn again gave a count for them to lower her. "Three, two, one, _mark_."

Laurel's body disappeared into the Pit. The four men stepped away from the water, Ray moving to Kendra's side and Len moving next to Sara. Her heart was in her eyes as she watched the water begin to bubble.

Jax hovered over the Pit, staying well above. "I'm not seeing anything," he called down.

"Give it a minute," Merlyn told him. "Miracles take time."

The roiling and frothing of the water became louder. Sara reached for Len's hand and held onto it tightly as she watched the Pit. "It's not working," she whispered.

Then some of the water fountained upward, narrowly missing Jax as he darted away. The water showered back down, revealing Laurel Lance, standing in the middle of the Pit. Soaking wet, living, breathing. _A miracle._ The first thing her eyes locked onto was her sister.

"Sara?" Laurel began to climb out of the Pit. Ray extended a hand to her, careful not to touch any of the water in the steaming pool. She stared at him in shocked recognition, and looked around to pick out other familiar faces. "Ray? Kendra?" She took a few steps out and collapsed to her knees. _"Sara?"_

Sara knelt in front of Laurel and wrapped her arms around her. "I'm here, Laurel, I'm here." She kept saying it over and over again, rocking with her sister, tears running down her face.

Jax landed next to Len and unmerged with Stein. The professor took his glasses off to wipe his eyes, while murmuring something Len couldn't understand. He gave Len a watery smile. "It's a Jewish prayer of thanksgiving, Mr. Snart. Sometimes I remember my rabbinical training."

Sara finally drew back from Laurel. "What do you remember?"

Laurel looked bewildered. "Darkness. I remember darkness… No. I remember Darkh!" She began to shake.

Rip pulled his coat off and draped it over Laurel. "You're starting to feel reaction, Miss Lance." He offered a hand to help her to her feet. "There's a lot to tell, but I think it's more important to get you out of this cave." He caught her as she suddenly sagged. He checked her pulse quickly, and then said dryly, "I suppose fainting is a side effect of being raised from the dead?"

"It's better than the way Sara came out the first time," Malcolm said, just as acerbically. "This is a sign I was right, that Laurel won't be infected by bloodlust."

"How can you be sure?" Jax asked, still suspicious. _Good kid._

Merlyn gave him a disdainful glance. "Because she hasn't _attacked_ any of you." He looked back at Sara. "There are no memories in there except for Laurel's now. This is your chance, Sara."

She nodded slowly. "And if it doesn't work, I wouldn't be any worse off than I already am." She looked around the cavern at her teammates, at their nods and smiles of reassurance or acceptance, Ray's thumbs-up of encouragement.

She walked over to Len, pulling off her coat and offering it to him to hold. As he took it from her, she grabbed the lapels of his jacket and pulled him close for a kiss, hard and sweet and full of promise. He ignored the gasps of surprise from Ray and Jax, the grunt from Mick, and the pleased giggle from Kendra.

Right now, there was no one else in his world but Sara.

Her eyes were sparkling when they parted. "Guess I just blew both our covers. But I didn't want to wait any more," she said in a whisper. "Third time _was_ the charm."

He smiled at that. "They say three is a magic number."

"Three is just a start," she told him, kissing him again, more lightly this time. They both turned to face the Pit. He held onto her hand, steadying her as she climbed the stones to the lip of the pool. She looked back at her teammates, and then down at Len one more time, as he pressed one more kiss to her hand before releasing it.

Then she stepped into the Pit, and sank below the surface.

* * *

ADDITIONAL AUTHOR'S NOTE: I've been trying to get at least this far before the airing of Arrow 4x18 "Canary Cry." I hope you've enjoyed it so far.


	5. Chapter 5

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'm still two hours away from Arrow 4x18 (Pacific Time) as I post this, so we'll see just how off-track I am, since I don't own any of this. It all belongs to DC Entertainment.

* * *

As Sara submerged, she gathered her dearest memories around her, as a shield for her heart and soul. Most of them were about her family: loving embraces, shared laughter. Going to a Rockets game with her dad. Snuggled with her mom on her bed, reading _Where The Wild Things Are_. Peeking through the banister with Laurel at Santa leaving their presents. Her pet canary. Hobbling home from the park between her sister and Ollie after trying to fly.

But those images were mingled with newer memories of her team. Her _friends._ Riding with Kendra in the Old West. Drinking Mick under the table. Dancing with Rip in the 70s. Laughing with Jax; trying to follow Ray on some technobabble tangent. Teasing Stein as they masqueraded as doctor and nurse, and his kind understanding when she needed it.

And the memories of Len. Fighting beside her. Freezing beside her. Turning to her as his lifeline, and becoming hers in return. The warmth of his lips moving against hers, and the tender look in his eyes after she kissed him.

Other thoughts began to rise, memories she didn't quite recognize, even though she figured in many of them.

 _"Look, Laurel, here's your new baby sister Sara." A sticky toddler kiss on an infant face._

 _"Sara's my baby doll." The caress of a soft, fuzzy blanket._

 _"Sara, come on, Santa's here!" A whiff of peppermint._

A thousand memories, flowing through her too quickly to process, though some of them stood out because of the feelings attached to them: Anger, sorrow, agonizing grief.

Forgiveness.

 _Love._

Above all, Laurel's love for her washed over Sara like a balm.

She was beginning to feel lighter, cleaner.

Not exactly unstained, but much less like a monster.

Much more like _Sara_.

Renewed, she began to rise.

* * *

Len's mental clock had started counting off seconds the moment Sara went under the water. _Forty-five… forty-six…_

"It's been too long," Jax said, merged again with Stein, hovering over the Pit. The water wasn't roiling the way it had been before, but Len couldn't see Sara in the depths.

"If she's not up in another minute, I'm going in after her," Len said, before Merlyn could repeat his advice that miracles take time.

The clock in his head kept ticking, louder and louder. _Where are you, Sara?_

One hundred five seconds. He dropped Sara's coat and began to climb the rocks surrounding the Pit.

One hundred ten seconds. There was motion in the water.

One hundred fifteen seconds. Sara broke the surface, arching her spine and throwing her head back. Her eyes were closed. The waters of the Pit streamed down her body, slicking her hair back, making her shine in the light of the candles and Firestorm's flame.

She stood there for a moment, taking in deep breaths. Then she opened her eyes, looking straight at Len. Wordlessly, she began to make her way out of the Pit. He extended a hand as she stepped onto the rim of the pool, steadying her on the way out.

When she reached level ground again, she sank to her knees, her head bowed. Len sank with her. "Sara?"

Someone dropped her coat around her shoulders. Stein, unmerged once again. Len nodded his thanks, and the professor stepped back to join Jax and their teammates, who were watching with hopeful expressions.

Merlyn's expression was calculating.

Len filed that away for the moment. He looked back down at Sara's bowed head. "Sara? Talk to me." He cupped the side of her face, just a gentle touch.

She slowly lifted her eyes to his. They were… _different._ Still as blue as ever, but something in them was softer, clearer than he'd ever seen before.

No. He _had_ seen that look once before: In the eyes of the younger Sara Lance. The one who had never been in the Pit.

She began to shiver just as Laurel had. Reaction. He pulled off his own jacket to wrap that around her too, putting his hands on her shaking shoulders.

"Gone," she whispered. "It's gone!"

Then her eyes rolled up and she pitched forward into his arms.

* * *

The Lance sisters were both still unconscious when they returned to the Waverider. Once they were in Medbay, Gideon quickly pronounced them in good health, just in need of sleep and dry clothes. Kendra took charge then, sending the men packing so she could get the Canaries out of their still-damp outfits. She tasked Len to get clothes for Sara, and sent Ray to the fabrication room to find something for Laurel.

The others took charge of Merlyn, no one being willing to let him run around the Waverider unsupervised. Len apparently hadn't been the only one to notice that calculating look.

Stein was waiting for Len when he left Sara's room with an armful of clean clothes. "Mr. Snart, could I have a word, please?"

"You've just had eight, Professor," Len replied shortly, continuing to walk back toward the Medbay, anxious to get back to Sara. "What do you want?"

Stein fell in step beside him. "It's about Sara. Actually, it's about you and Sara."

Len stopped and faced the older man. "Did you talk to her dad?"

Stein looked bewildered by the question. "Her father? Why…" Understanding dawned on his face, and he smiled. "Ah. No, Mr. Snart, I did not discuss you and Sara with her father. If I had, I would have told him it was not my place to interfere." He leaned a little closer, conspiratorially. "And having once been a man about whom fathers would warn their daughters, I can sympathize with your position."

Len raised his eyebrows. "Thanks. I think. So what about me and Sara?"

"Has she told you anything about her experience in the mental hospital in 1958?"

Len frowned a little, thinking. "Something about kissing a nurse. But it's not like either of us have never kissed other people before." He didn't mention that until now, he'd never considered kissing as more than a means to an end.

Stein sighed. "Actually, it may well be just like that for Sara. She told me about the nurse. The experience… had a strong effect on her. If she hasn't told you more, you should talk to her about it. Now that she's been back into the Pit…" Stein paused for a moment. "It may have changed her again. I thought you should know."

"And here I thought you were going to give me a lecture on fraternization," Len answered, no trace of sarcasm in his voice. He began walking again.

Stein chuckled as he kept pace. "Considering Dr. Palmer and Miss Saunders, I think it would be hypocritical for anyone on the team to complain about the two of you." He put a hand on Len's shoulder. "To love and to be loved is a basic human need, Leonard. No one is going to begrudge you that."

Len's stride slowed a little at those words. Stein noticed it. "Perhaps I am premature in using that word to describe your relationship," he said. "But whatever this is between you, you both deserve it. We've all chosen a life of danger, with too many opportunities for sorrow. When you have a chance for happiness, grab onto it with both hands." He smiled slightly. "That may be a cliché, but that doesn't make it any less true."

* * *

In the middle of the night, Merlyn crept quietly through the halls of the Waverider. He'd easily broken through the brig's security. So much for future tech.

They were still in prehistoric Nanda Parbat. Hunter had decided to wait there until the Lance sisters had woken from their post-Pit naps. Fool. It gave Merlyn enough time for another hike, this time to take a dip of his own.

He wanted the restorative power of the Pit. Even more, he wanted the bloodlust Sara had left behind. He knew it would make him stronger, even able to commandeer the Waverider and make Hunter take him to another time and place of his choosing, where he could once again be Ra's al Ghul.

He found his way to the main hatch, and pressed the release button for the door. It dropped, and he strolled down the ramp, slinging his pack on his back again after taking out a flashlight. The pack held a metal jug for taking some of the Pit waters with him when they left this place.

He began to make his way up the hill when a cold drawl stopped him. "Going somewhere?"

Sara's mouthy boyfriend emerged from the shadow of a boulder, blocking his path. He was joined by the big scarred man, who growled, "Told you I'd be right up your ass." Both of them were armed.

"Kind of late for a stroll, isn't it?" Motion overhead. He looked up to see Palmer in that ridiculous suit of his, joined by Fireboy.

A shifting of the gravel behind him. He turned to see Hunter, who was leveling his gun at him. "We suspected you would try something. So we let you bypass the Waverider's security."

Merlyn smirked. "It was a test."

"And you failed," Cold said with a grim smile.

"In more ways than one," added Fireboy.

Hunter continued, "Did you really think that on a time ship, with access to every historical record there is, including security videos, that we wouldn't find out what you've been up to? How you've made alliances and betrayed them at every turn? How you swept up the remains of Vandal Savage after he was defeated by the Flash and the Green Arrow?"

Merlyn started to chuckle. He looked back at Cold. "So, is this where you're going to 'ice' me?"

The man aimed his gun at Merlyn. "I want to, but Raymond had a different idea."

Merlyn watched Palmer descend. "You think you can take me out, Boy Scout?"

Palmer… _shrugged?_ "I think… yeah… maybe." He leaned forward and said in a low voice, "But I thought I'd let my girlfriend do it."

The sound of wings overhead. Merlyn looked up to see a flash of silver.

Then pain.

And darkness.


	6. Chapter 6

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This one took a little longer to write. I hope you think it's worth the wait.

As always, "Legends of Tomorrow" is the property of DC Entertainment, and I get nothing for this except the joy of reading your responses. (Yes, that's a shameless bid for reviews.)

* * *

The vibration of the Waverider lifting off woke Sara from a dream of flying over a still blue lake. She sat up slowly, realizing she was in Medbay. Her last waking memories came flooding back. She looked over to the neighboring bed, and saw her sister sleeping there peacefully. "Gideon?" she said quietly. "How is Laurel?"

Gideon's electronic voice was equally quiet. "Miss Lance's vitals are within norms. She will need several more hours of REM sleep to fully recover from the effects of the Lazarus Pit."

"How long have I been out?"

"It's been two hours since you were brought to the Medbay, and you are now free to leave. Your vitals are also within norms, and you have had sufficient REM sleep for your recovery."

"I suppose it's easier to be cured of bloodlust than to be brought back from the dead."

The AI didn't answer immediately. Then Gideon said, "There is no information to support or deny your hypothesis. You and your sister are unique."

Sara nodded. "That we are. Thank you, Gideon. Call me when she wakes up."

She made her way to the galley, to find Len poking around in the cabinets again. She leaned against the entry and said, "Don't tell me we picked up mini marshmallows in Nanda Parbat."

He turned to her with a slight smile and two steaming mugs. "No, but Gideon shared your secret recipe with me. She told me you were up, and that Laurel would be sleeping for a while longer," he said, passing her one of the mugs. "How are you feeling?"

She took a sip as she settled into one of the chairs. Len took the chair next to her, just as they'd been… was it really less than two days ago? She looked down at her mug as she considered her answer. "Peaceful," she said at last. "In a way I can't remember feeling in… years. Not even before my first time in the Pit. This time…" She felt tears starting in her eyes as she remembered the love that had surrounded her. "I felt Laurel's memories, all the ways she ever felt about me. I always knew she loved me, despite the things I'd done to hurt her. But now I know she loved me more than I ever deserved."

Len wrapped his free hand around hers. "Don't sell yourself short, Sara," he told her. "You do deserve that. And more."

They sat in silence for a moment. Then she said, "I want you to know… When I went into the Pit, the last thing I thought of was you." She looked back up at him. There was that look in his eyes again. "And, back at my dad's house, when you said I should have people I loved around me…" she hesitated, and then went on, "I already was with the people I love."

She watched him lean back, considering her. Finally he said, "That's a pretty dangerous word. Are you sure you're ready to use it? With me?"

She smiled. "We're pretty dangerous people. And let's face it, we're both pretty messed up." He gave a single nod of agreement. She set her mug down. "But perhaps we can help each other out of the mess. And… and if you're not ready to use that word yet... I understand."

He leaned toward her. "You know, the professor told me that to love and to be loved is a basic human need." He set his own mug down and pulled her into his lap so he could wrap his arms around her. "I've got about 40 years of 'messed up' to work through, so I think I should warn you: I'm going to be very human. And very needy."

She chuckled, and reveled in his warmth. _And he calls himself Cold._ "As long as we're warning each other… Do you remember what I told you about that nurse in 1958?"

He nodded. "Heard about that from the professor too. He told me it had a very strong effect on you. But that's about all he told me," he said as she started to frown. "He said I should ask you. So, tell me about it."

She nestled into him as she spoke. "Her name was Lindsay. It was my first kiss after being brought back, and it was like being kissed for the first time ever. It was… overwhelming. Terrifying."

"And you think that it will be like that again, now that you've been in the Pit again."

She only answered with a nod. He pulled back a little and put his hand to her face, encouraging her to look at him.

"So we take it slowly, and begin again," he said. "There's nothing wrong with that, Sara." He smiled a little. "And just think. This time, we can _both_ appreciate our first kiss."

There was only one way she could answer that. She leaned in and kissed him, her arms winding around his neck, his hand sliding into her hair. His lips were soft and slow and gentle against hers, and his arm tightened around her body.

This wasn't terrifying at all. This was like… like flying over a still blue lake, and then coming home.

That tender look was back in his eyes when they parted. She wanted more. Wanted to be closer. She slid out of his lap and moved so she could sit straddled in his lap, heartbeat to heartbeat. She kissed him again, nipping at his lips, her tongue seeking entrance, which he willingly granted. He tasted of mint. She pressed close to him and savored the sweetness of his mouth until they had to part again, breathing heavily.

He chuckled softly. "You're moving pretty fast there for just a second kiss," he whispered teasingly.

She whispered back, "Len, stop counting."

He smiled and sealed his lips to hers again.

* * *

Mick considered the data on the projection and shook his head. Rip touched the display to change it.

Mick slowly nodded at the new readout. He smiled grimly. "You know, Rip, you can be a scary bastard sometimes. I'm starting to like you."

Hunter looked at him askance. "I'm not sure whether I should feel complimented about that." He moved to his chair. "Gideon, you have the coordinates. Off we go."

* * *

Merlyn woke up on the cold ground. His head was throbbing, and he could feel a lump where Kendra had hit him.

He sat up and assessed his surroundings. Nighttime, in some kind of jungle. So, not in Nanda Parbat any more. Bright moonlight was filtered by a thick canopy of trees.

His backpack lay a next to him. He grabbed it and looked inside. Food, clothing, everything one would need for a camping trip. Just no weapons.

All right. He'd done more with less. If the fools didn't have the nerve to kill him outright, they should have left him naked and empty-handed. Since they didn't, he would eventually find them and show them what it was to cross al-Saher.

He stood and slung the pack over one shoulder. Time to get his bearings. The stars would tell him where he was.

The hike took him a few minutes. He looked up. The stars were thick in the sky, despite the bright light of the moons.

 _Moons._ Plural. Two of them hanging in the night sky.

The backpack hit the ground as Merlyn shouted his rage.

END

* * *

AUTHOR'S NOTE: So, this was originally going to be a one-shot "third time" to follow "Little Boy Lost." Like children, it grew faster than I could have believed. And there are a couple more bunnies hopping around in this particular story line.

Thanks for the kind comments and reviews. They do mean a lot to me.


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